Hello, folks. I have decided to do something really cheeky. I'm going to retell a substantial portion of the LOTR from Legolas' point of view. This is the first chapter of what is going to be a looooong story.

This should be considered part of 'The Nameless One' series because there will be references to characters like Tathar and Edwen Nana, plus the relationship between Legolas and both Aragorn and Gandalf will reflect the situation in 'The Nameless One', where Legolas has long known the two.

I didn't send this to Dragonfly for a beta reading because I have been off an entire month and am just desperate to post something now! Sometimes I can be as impatient as a child. So here goes.

Acknowledgement: Contains quotations from LOTR, both book & movie versions.

Chapter 1: So It Begins

Tathar gazed disapprovingly at Legolas. He thought the exuberant Prince wanted reining in. "Your father is going to be very unhappy," he warned the Prince.

"I know," Legolas replied cheerfully, "but I won't let that affect me."

"How could it affect you?" Tathar retorted. "You will be leagues away by the time he finds out about this latest escapade of yours. Now I, on the other hand, will be the one to break the news to him."

"Which you will no doubt do with your usual cleverness," said Legolas airily. "Anyway, Edwen Nana will intercede if Ada grows too indignant."

"You might be a little more solemn," said Tathar reprovingly. "This is a grave business."

"Of course it is—that is why I am going on this quest in the first place!"

"Seriously, Legolas."

"I am being serious, Tathar. Aragorn and Mithrandir are going to need my skills—particularly since they are saddled with that wretched Dwarf."

"Legolas!"

"Very well. I shall be quite serious. Tathar, we Elves owe much to Mithrandir, for he has been working on our behalf for many a year. As for Aragorn, I consider him a kinsman. The minute he pledged his sword to the Ringbearer, I knew that I must pledge my bow." Legolas broke into a grin. "It is a pity the Dwarf then felt obliged to pledge his axe. Had a nice ring to it, of course, but now I will be forced to get along with him for the Valar know how long!"

Tathar tried to raise his eyebrows after the fashion of Elrond but gave up after a minute and settled on rolling his eyes.

"Someday," he warned, "you may find yourself very grateful for the presence of that axe."

"I do not see how," Legolas scoffed, "except insofar as it will keep us well supplied with firewood."

"You know that his ax has hewn more than firewood," objected Tathar.

"Oh, very well," conceded Legolas grudgingly. "I suppose we can rely upon the Dwarf to deprive any Orc we meet of its toes. Perhaps, at a stretch, he will be able to cut a few off at the knees."

"Legolas, I have heard it said that the Naugrim are doughty warriors."

"And I have heard it said that a single dragon can send a whole pack of them running."

"That's not fair, Legolas. A single dragon can send a whole pack of Elves running, too. The only reasons Elves have suffered less from the depredations of dragons is that the worms would rather amass gold than collect songs."

Legolas knew this to be true, but he was saved the trouble of a reply by the arrival of Erestor.

"You are wanted in Elrond's chamber, Legolas. Plans are being laid, and Mithrandir wishes to draw upon your familiarity with the Misty Mountains."

Legolas nodded at Tathar and strode after Erestor. Left to his own devices, Tathar began to sort through Legolas' kit, for Legolas would be traveling even lighter than usual. As Tathar separated the necessary from the superfluous, he mused upon the events of the past weeks.

The Elves of Mirkwood had been guarding the creature Gollum for several months. Tathar remembered well that mortal's arrival, for he had been present in the Great Hall when Aragorn had delivered him into their hands. Grim-faced and weary, the Ranger had entered the chamber driving the cowering creature before him. His hands covered with bite marks, his face scored with scratches, the Dúnadan had been grateful when Thranduil's Elves had dragged Gollum off. The dungeon beneath the Great Hall had not been used since the last century, when it had briefly held a party of thirteen Dwarves. Now Gollum was cast into a cell, and Gandalf came to question him. The creature's shrieks reverberated throughout the Hall, and Elves had gathered in anxious knots.

"I never thought the wizard had it within him to be so cruel," said one, shuddering at the sound of a horrendous shriek.

"Nor did I," replied another. "He must be crueler than an Orc, even, to make that creature howl so."

Overhearing them, Tathar spoke up indignantly.

"I have taken my turn as guard outside the creature's cell, and I can assure you that Mithrandir treats him only as harshly as needful. The wizard does not torment the creature for his own amusement, as an Orc would!"

"Then why does the creature howl so dreadfully?"

"It is the creature's way. He doesn't speak properly. He yowls or wails or shrieks when he has a mind to be noisy, or snivels or whines when he is in a calmer frame of mind."

"Well, then, I wish Mithrandir wouldn't provoke him past calmness. If he were only sniveling or whining, we wouldn't hear him throughout the Hall. Folk could get some sleep!"

"The creature has valuable information, and Mithrandir must worm it out of him somehow. But, really, he hasn't done much worse than threaten. The creature is mortally afraid of fire, and I grant you that Mithrandir has had to make him uncomfortably warm, but he hasn't actually singed so much as a hair on his head."

"Lucky, too," rejoined the other Elf, "as the creature hasn't any locks to spare."

This was true. The creature presented a most pitiful appearance. His hair was scanty, his body skinny, and his skin scarred by the marks of whips and other signs of ill usage. Altogether, he was so withered and scrawny that he hardly looked threatening. Perhaps this is why the Elves were not as vigilant with Gollum as they should have been when, after forcing from the creature as much information as he thought he was likely to get without actually racking him, Gandalf left him in their care. The wizard had warned them that Gollum was more dangerous than he looked, but the Elves found it impossible to give credence to his words. Oddly, it was only Edwen Nana who argued that they should hold Gollum under the strictness of conditions. Generally she was the first to show kindness to the sick and unfortunate, but something Gandalf had told her about the creature must have turned her against it.

"You should keep it in its cell," she worried to Thranduil. "I am sure no good will come of allowing it outside."

Thranduil, however, brushed off her warning. Since recovering his son, he had grown indulgent toward those in his charge—except in the case of Legolas himself, of course! His anxious love for his son sometimes led him to restrict the Prince's movement in a manner that Legolas found frustrating. Would that the King had taken such pains with Gollum! Howsoever, he did not, and each day the creature was allowed to take the air in the branches of a solitary tree, its base guarded by a handful of Elves. So nonchalant did Thranduil grow that he sometimes permitted Legolas to be numbered amongst the warders. Indeed, Legolas had but lately left Gollum's guards and returned to the Great Hall when the blow fell.

When the news of Gollum's escape had first arrived at the Hall, Legolas had not understood the seriousness of the matter. Instead, he looked upon the incident as an opportunity to briefly escape from Mirkwood, where his father had confined him since he had been injured on his last journey, one that had taken him all the way to the Grey Havens and back. Eagerly the Prince volunteered to carry to Rivendell the news of the creature's escape. But as Legolas learned more of the attack that had enabled Gollum to give his guards the slip, his mood altered rapidly. Many were the guards who had died in the attack. Many were those whom Legolas had numbered amongst his friends. These were young Elves of his age, cruelly cut down by the Orcs who had surged from the forest, their approach mysteriously cloaked by some force that the Elves did not understand.

So it was that during the entire journey from Mirkwood to Rivendell, Legolas had not smiled even once, so great was his grief. Moreover, in addition to his sorrow, Legolas was burdened with shame. The young Elf's mind returned again and again to the distress that would be visited upon Gandalf when the agéd wizard learned that the creature he had sought so desperately had escaped from the keeping of the Elves. He also dreaded telling Aragorn that the Elves had failed to safeguard the creature that had cost him so much in time and blood.

Watching the Prince, Tathar felt anxious. He had never seen Legolas so grim, no, not even when the Prince had had disagreements with his father Thranduil. Indeed, when Prince and King quarreled, Tathar was always reassured by the fury evinced by the younger Elf. 'Legolas is in fine fettle', Tathar would say to himself, 'if he can speak with such vehemence. His spirit at least is not broken!' But now Legolas rode silently, as he had from the very start of their journey.

Their way would take them through Lothlórien, and Tathar hoped that Legolas' spirits would be lifted in that place of refuge. Tathar was delighted when, upon their arrival, they were greeted by Haldir, Rúmil, and Orophin. He had feared that the brothers would be absent, patrolling the borders. But there they were, rushing to embrace Legolas as of old. To Tathar's distress, however, the Prince gave the three brothers the most perfunctory of replies and turned away as if he found their enthusiasm unbearable. Undeterred, the brothers loitered about the talan of the Lord Celeborn and the Lady Galadriel, where Legolas went to take counsel. When the Prince descended silently, his spirits not mended by the words of his elders, the brothers trailed anxiously after him, trying to engage him in conversation. He could not avoid answering when they addressed him directly, but they could not draw him out or make him laugh. At last, in desperation, Orophin deliberately fell from a tree, but not even that prank wrested a smile from Legolas.

"He's as stodgy as you, Haldir," Orophin complained as he picked a leaf from his braid.

"You must be patient with him," said Galadriel from behind. Orophin colored. He turned, bowing low to cover his embarrassment. He had not realized that Galadriel had seen him take his header.

"It was a great shock to Legolas, this attack upon Mirkwood," Galadriel continued. "You and your brothers must know that several of his friends were slain. He had been taking his turn guarding the creature. His friends arrived, and he chatted gaily with them before returning to the Hall. Shortly thereafter word came to the Hall of the attack. At first he did not comprehend the seriousness of the situation, but when he returned to scene, he found the bodies of his comrades hewn cruelly where they lay at the base of the tree in which the creature had taken shelter. But there is more to his grief than even that, for Legolas feels that he and his kin have failed Mithrandir, and Estel as well."

The brothers bowed their heads.

"His sorrow must indeed be great," murmured Haldir.

"Yes," Galadriel replied simply.

Lessoned by Galadriel, the brothers ceased their importuning of Legolas, and the Prince was grateful. This they knew even though he did not speak of the matter, for they saw it in his eyes. In a way, then, he did in the end draw comfort from them, for he could not help but perceive their concern, and he knew that it arose from their love for him.

A few days later, Legolas and his escort rode from Lothlórien and crossed the Misty Mountains via the Pass of Caradhras. Then the company turned north, making their careful way through Hollin. But they were unmolested by any foe and began to travel more quickly. As they neared their destination, Legolas grew even quieter than before, even though Tathar would not have thought that possible. When they at last rode through the gates of Rivendell, Legolas drew up his horse abruptly and slid from it to the ground, looking about warily as if he had never before seen the elegant buildings that surrounded him. Rapidly he strode from his companions, leaving Tathar to see to his mount. Tathar knew that the Prince would first go in search of Gandalf, and Tathar hoped that the wizard would say something to assuage Legolas' combined grief and guilt.

Ai! Gandalf was nowhere to be found. The wizard had ridden west, toward the Ford of Bruinen, Elrond told Legolas. Several days before, Glorfindel, too, had gone that way, crossing the Ford and searching the lands for sign of a Perian who was reputed to be making his way toward this Last Homely House east of the Sea. "For a message came to me," Elrond said, "from Gildor Inglorian of the House of Finrod. He and his companions encountered the Perian astray in the woods of Mithrandir's belovéd Shire and bearing a great burden without that wizard's guidance." But what the burden was, Elrond would not say.

That night Legolas awoke to the sound of soft but urgent voices. He arose and went to the window and there beheld several Elves, Glorfindel amongst them, bearing a small person, no taller than a child of twelve, upon a litter. Legolas knew at once that this was the Perian of whom Elrond had spoken. Accompanying the Perian and his elven escort were Aragorn, three other Periannath, and—Gandalf!

Legolas hastily yanked on his tunic and his leggings, running from his room in a disheveled fashion that was more like unto that of a Ranger than an Elf. Such was his eagerness to speak to Gandalf that he rounded a corner as heedlessly as any Dwarf—and very nearly ran into Aragorn.

"Whoa!" exclaimed the Dúnadan, holding up a hand to fend off the impetuous Elf. "It would behoove you to choose a better place and time to exercise your limbs!"

The Ranger studied the Elf with a critical air. "You look terrible," he announced with mock concern. Legolas feinted a blow at his head, which Aragorn, trained by the Elves, dodged with ease. As they scuffled, Legolas felt cheerful for the first time in weeks—but only for a moment, for he suddenly remembered that he would have to tell Aragorn, too, about Gollum's escape. Aragorn caught the swift change of emotion.

"What is the matter, mellon-nîn?" he asked, his concern real this time.

"You look tired and worn, Aragorn," Legolas answered. "First you must eat and rest. Later we will speak. Now I must go to Mithrandir."

"Unless your errand is of the greatest import, you should wait to speak to him. There has been brought to this House a Perian gravely injured. Gandalf has taken him to Elrond and will want to remain by his side as his wounds are treated."

Legolas considered.

"The news I would tell is indeed of great import, but it will keep, for it is of a grief that cannot be remedied of an instant."

"If that is so, then bear me company instead."

Legolas assented, and the two went to Aragorn's old room, where a change of clothes always awaited the Ranger. Legolas made a face as Aragorn peeled off his travel-stained garments.

"Aragorn, you smell like a swamp."

"Probably because I had to traverse one, my friend. Even you could not cross the Midgewater Marshes without picking up their stench."

"It is a long way from those marshes. Didn't you have an opportunity to bathe after you got through them?"

"Aside from dipping my feet in the Bruinen, I have remained unsullied by the taint of water for, lo, these many days," smirked Aragorn.

"Aragorn, are you a Man or a Troll? Do you know, sometimes I think an Orcs would have a greater care of its appearance!"

"Indeed? Tell me: would you have stopped to bathe with a band of Ringwraiths on your tail?"

Legolas altered his manner at once.

"Nazgul? No, you can't mean that!"

"I do," Aragorn said gravely.

"How came you to be pursued by Ringwraiths?" asked Legolas, bewildered. "Have you been betrayed? But how? And by whom?"

"They weren't after me—although they would be if I were indeed to be betrayed. No, they sought my companion."

"The Perian?"

"Yes."

Legolas suddenly understood.

"The injured Perian, is he Bilbo's kinsman?"

"Aye, but let us speak no more of this matter. Gandalf would want us to hold our tongues until the tale can be told in council. Now tell me your news of great import."

Legolas sighed and looked down.

"Perhaps I ought to beg off by saying that this matter, too, should not be spoken of until the Council meets. But you are entitled to hear this, I think, for it concerns you nearly. Gollum has escaped."

Aragorn did not reply immediately. At last Legolas raised his head and looked at him. The Ranger stood gazing out the window. He looked thoughtful rather than angry. At last he spoke.

"Gollum did not escape unaided." It was not a question but a statement.

"His guards were ambushed by Orcs," Legolas confirmed.

"Events have been set in motion in many lands, I think," mused Aragorn. "Gollum's escape, the reappearance of the Ringwraiths, these surely are no coincidences. The same hand lies behind both."

"I am sorry," said Legolas.

Aragorn turned toward him.

"Sorry? Yes, I, too, am sorry—sorry that evil has arisen. But I didn't create the evil, and neither did you, so don't be sorry on that account.

Greatly relieved, Legolas smiled at his friend.

"You sound like Elrond!"

"Do I? I suppose that is no great surprise, as he has had a hand in my upbringing. But, come, Legolas, you said I might rest and eat. We have talked at our leisure, but now I would dine. Where is the food?"

"At this time of day, in the kitchen being prepared under the careful eye of the Cook. It is several hours still until the evening meal."

"Then let us creep into the kitchen and try our hand at thieving pies, as we used to when we were younger."

"That will not be necessary, Aragorn. Now we are grown, the Cook will not look askance if we stroll into the kitchen and help ourselves to a bit of bread and cheese."

"Where would be the pleasure in obtaining food in such an ordinary fashion, Legolas?" teased the Ranger. "Have you no sense of adventure?"

Now Legolas was grinning. He should have known that Aragorn would not be angry. His smile quickly faded, however. He still had Gandalf to face, and the wizard could be, well, irascible was the mildest word that came to mind. Aragorn perceived his distress, and his jesting manner immediately dropped away.

"Don't worry, Legolas. Even if Gandalf is vexed, he won't be so for long."

"Aye, but during the short time he is vexed, he may do a lot of damage."

"He'll cast no spell that can't be countered," Aragorn assured him. "In any event, nothing can be done about the matter for the time being. We may as well go steal those pies."

The two friends made their way to the kitchen, where they were very well entertained, the Cook seemingly having forgiven them for past depredations. Furnished not only with bread and cheese but also with cold meats and an excellent bottle of wine, they betook themselves to the garden. There they still remained hours later when Elrond sent Figwit in search of them.

"Aragorn! Legolas!" called that Elf as he caught sight of them where they lounged by the statue of Gil-galad. "Lord Elrond bids me see that you have all that is needful. Aragorn, he is very sorry that he has not been able to greet you properly. The Perian's condition was very grave, else he would not have neglected you so."

"Thank you, Figwit," Aragorn replied. "You may tell Lord Elrond that my needs have been attended to."

Not for the first time, Legolas wondered what had possessed Figwit's parents to give him such a name. Even Gandalf had commented upon its peculiar nature.

"If I didn't know better," he had said to Elrond, "I would think Figwit had some Perian blood, for it is just the sort of name one would expect to find among the Hobbits."

Elrond shook his head, bemused.

"I suspect the name has some meaning known only to his parents. Erestor used to amuse himself by treating it as an acronym and attempting to come up with a sensible string of words to match its letters. He long ago gave up the endeavor, however."

Now the bearer of the peculiar name returned to the Hall to reassure Elrond that all was well with his foster son. When he had gone, Aragorn suggested to Legolas that they, too, go into the Hall.

"If Elrond could take the time to check on my welfare," he observed, "then perhaps matters have gone well enough for Gandalf to be able to spare a moment." He urged Legolas to seek out the wizard.

"Speak to him, Legolas. I am sure he will not be so very angry. And even if he is, you might as well know that the sooner rather than the later. After all, once he breaks forth into wrathfulness, there is nothing for him to do but to begin recovering from it. It is true that for a time you will have to endure his ill humor, but at least this dreadful anticipation of yours will have been brought to an end. So your suffering, in sum, will be the shorter."

Legolas could not gainsay Aragorn's logic, and the two friends reentered the Hall. Aragorn volunteered to accompany Legolas to Gandalf's chambers, but Legolas declined the offer.

"Thank you, Aragorn, but I think I shall simply have to square my shoulders and face him on my own. That way he will feel free to say whatever he thinks, and I will get through the interview all the quicker."

"Oh, I doubt if he'd hold his tongue on my account," Aragorn rejoined sardonically as he parted from the Elf.

Legolas did square his shoulders, and took a deep breath to boot, before he knocked upon the door to Gandalf's room. "Enter," called the familiar gravelly voice. Legolas did, but found to his disappointment that Gandalf was in the company of Erestor and Glorfindel. The latter was describing in minute detail everything he had learned during his search for Bilbo's kinsman. His manner distracted, Gandalf waved Legolas to a chair, handed him a glass of wine, and paid him no further mind. Sitting on edge, his beverage neglected, Legolas felt worse and worse as he listened to the balrog-slayer's tale. He suspected that the escape of Gollum was of even greater importance than he had believed.

Gandalf questioned Glorfindel at great length, probing for any detail, however slight, that might prove useful. At last the wizard sighed and leaned back in his chair, his eyes closed, his fingers pressed against his temple. Erestor and Glorfindel arose.

"You are weary, Mithrandir," said Erestor. "We will leave you to rest."

"Thank you," said Gandalf, his eyes still closed. Elrond and Glorfindel went to the door, where Glorfindel paused and looked back at Legolas, who had not moved.

"I will follow upon the instant," promised Legolas, and the two other Elves departed.

"Your news?" Gandalf said shortly. This was not an encouraging start, and Legolas sighed audibly. Gandalf opened his eyes and studied the young Elf. Perhaps it was his weariness, but his face looked hard.

"Well?" said Gandalf.

Legolas found himself taking another deep breath.

"Mithrandir, Gollum has escaped," he said simply. Anxiously he studied Gandalf's face, but the Istar's expression revealed nothing beyond his exhaustion. 'Is he angry?' Legolas wondered.

"Gwaihir hinted something of the sort," said Gandalf suddenly. "I suppose," he added, "that I ought to interrogate you as minutely as I did Glorfindel, but, truth be told, I am too tired to make a good job of it." Abruptly, the wizard arose and went to his bed, flinging himself face-down upon it without even bothering to pull off his boots. Legolas hesitated for a minute, then stole toward the bed, meaning to perform that office for him. As soon as his hand touched Gandalf's boot, however, the Istar spoke up.

"Leave it," he mumbled. "I mean to rest only briefly, for I wish to check on Frodo's well-being momentarily."

"Frodo?"

"Yes. Frodo Baggins, nephew of Bilbo. Now be off with you! I do need sleep, even if only a little. I'm not a Vala, as I am sure you know. My powers extend only so far, as does my endurance."

"Stay well," Legolas murmured softly as he retreated from the room. Perhaps, he thought, tomorrow he would be able to speak at length with the wizard.

Ai! Several days were in fact to pass before Legolas had a chance for private conversation with Gandalf. It was touch and go with Bilbo's nephew for several days, and while the Hobbit hovered betwixt light and dark, the wizard stayed close. Then, as the Perian recovered, Gandalf closeted himself with Elrond, Glorfindel, Erestor, and Galdor, the latter having arrived with a message from Círdan of the Grey Havens. Next, a party of Dwarves arrived, and, to Legolas' dismay, Gandalf gave lengthy audience to their leader. Then there was the feast, of course, the celebration of the Perian's recovery, but that was a very public event. Anyway, Gandalf was seated beside Elrond upon the dais, and Legolas, although seated in honor, was this night not at the head table. Nor was he able to approach the wizard when the company adjourned to the Hall of Fire, for many of the elder Elves clustered around him. So the Elf had to 'hang fire' for several days in an agony of doubt as to Gandalf's feelings. Moreover, he had another source of dread. He knew he would have to publicly rehearse the tale of Gollum's escape at the Council of Elrond, which would be called as soon as it became known that Bilbo's nephew would be up to attending it.

Legolas would have sought out Aragorn during this time of dreadful anticipation, but the Dúnadan more often than not was to be found walking with Arwen. This vexed Legolas on two accounts. First, it deprived him of the Ranger's company. Second, for their perambulations, the couple preferred the very spots that Legolas found most enticing. Again and again, Legolas would seek solace in one glade or another, only to find Aragorn and Arwen standing together in its midst, leaning in toward one another, their fingers intertwined, staring into each other's eyes and murmuring soft words. Miffed, Legolas would have to creep away. Perhaps, he decided after several days of this, attendance at the Council would not be such a dreadful thing after all. In any event, it couldn't be put off much longer. Legolas several times had seen Bilbo's nephew walking about with the other Hobbits, and he was not surprised when one day the bell rang to signal that the emissaries and their hosts were to assemble before the Lord of Imladris. Legolas hastened to join the company, surprising himself by finding that he was in fact eager to do so. His enthusiasm waned a little, however, when he found that the Dwarves had plunked themselves down next to the Mirkwood Elves. Carefully ignoring them, Legolas took his seat with the greatest of dignity. As per his father's orders, he was dressed in a long, flowing robe. (He had, however, drawn the line at the silver diadem his father would have had him wear.)

As other folk arrived and took their seats, Legolas looked over his fellows—still carefully ignoring the Dwarves, of course. He had at least a passing acquaintance with nearly all of the Elves, so he paid most attention to the Men. One he had never seen before. He studied him and decided that he was most assuredly not a Ranger. His elegant yet travel-worn clothes were those of a foreigner, a Man of the South. Legolas had heard that an emissary from the far off realm of Gondor had but lately arrived. His name was Boromir, he had been told, and he was the son of the Steward who dwelled in Minas Tirith, the chief city of that land. This must be he, Legolas decided. He was a well-built man, muscular like Aragorn and only a little shorter. He carried himself with confidence. Yet he had a wary look about him, as if he did not altogether trust the company he found himself in. Legolas could have understood this attitude if had applied only to the Naugrim, but the Man cast sideways glances at the Elves, too. Legolas looked over at Aragorn to see what the Dúnadan made of the stranger. Aragorn glanced fleetingly at the Southerner and then withdrew his eyes. As for the Southerner, his eyes flicked over Aragorn as if he were of no import, coming to rest instead upon Elrond, who waited patiently for all to take their seats.

The company having settled into place, all joined Boromir in looking expectantly toward Elrond, who assumed his most magisterial air. Rising, he began to declaim.

"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old: You have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor."

Everyone felt a chill as Elrond pronounced that word, as if judgment had just been passed upon each and every one of them. Elrond continued solemnly.

"Middle-earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite, or You. Will. Fall. Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom."

Elrond paused. Legolas exhaled, not realizing until then that he had been holding his breath. But he was to catch himself holding his breath many times before the conclusion of that Council. All the news was distressing, so much so that Legolas found himself moved to concern even on the behalf the Dwarves. At the news of Saruman's betrayal of Gandalf, however, he felt fury rather than concern. To treat a wise and honorable Maia in such a perfidious manner, and after masquerading for so many years as his friend—such treachery could never be forgiven!

So portentous were the tidings from the many lands that Legolas almost forgot his own errand, but Aragorn had not forgotten, and he reminded the Elf of his duty by dissembling a little, speaking as if he knew nothing of Gollum's escape. For one thing, Aragorn did not know how matters stood between Legolas and Gandalf, for Ranger and Elf had not talked since their reunion that first night. He thus hesitated to let on that he heard anything of Gollum's escape lest the wizard be angered at having been left in the dark. So he spoke disingenuously when Boromir asked of Gollum's fate. The tips of Legolas' ears flushed as the Dúnadan explained that the creature had been left in the care of the Mirkwood Elves.

"Alas! alas!" Legolas cried. "The tidings that I was sent to bring must now be told. They are not good, but only here have I learned how evil they may seem to this company. Sméagol, who is now called Gollum, has escaped."

Continuing to play his part, Aragorn bade Legolas tell the story in full, which he did so without any interruption save for one. The Dwarf Glóin became indignant as he listened to Legolas describe the kindness that the Elves had shown to Gollum.

"You were less tender to me," he complained, his eyes flashing in anger at the memories of the days that he had spent in Thranduil's dungeons. Legolas opened his mouth to give a testy reply, but Gandalf shot him a hard look and he held his tongue. The wizard then turned his attention to soothing the Dwarf's feelings.

"Now come!" said Gandalf. "Pray do not interrupt, my good Glóin. That was a regrettable misunderstanding, long set right. If all the grievances that stand between Elves and Dwarves are to be brought up here, we may as well abandon this Council."

Legolas had to grudgingly admit to himself that Glóin responded to this appeal with tact and restraint. He arose and bowed politely and resumed his seat, allowing Legolas to proceed. The Elf noticed, however, that a younger Dwarf seated by Glóin was not so gracious. This Dwarf glared at Legolas and gripped the haft of the large axe that leaned against his chair.

When Legolas had finished his tale, he looked anxiously at Gandalf. Perhaps now he would learn the wizard's feelings on this matter. Legolas observed how Gandalf kept his countenance, but perhaps his counsel as well. Calmly he spoke, as if unperturbed by the news.

"Well, well, he is gone," the wizard said. "We have no time to seek for him again. He must do what he will. But," he added, "he may play a part yet that neither he nor Sauron have foreseen."

Gandalf at his enigmatic best, thought Legolas wryly as the wizard uttered that final sentence. But, the Elf wondered, had the Istar revealed his true sentiments, or did he assume an air of calmness lest he arouse doubts and fears amongst the councilors, emotions that might cloud their judgment and paralyze their will? Legolas knew that he would never be certain of Gandalf's feelings until he had an opportunity to speak with him privately. He tried to push the matter aside so that he might better attend to the deliberations of the Council.

Oddly, throughout all these deliberations the one object that was at the center of all thoughts and speeches had remained hidden. At last Elrond addressed Bilbo's nephew. Gravely he spoke.

"Bring forth the Ring, Frodo."

Legolas forgot his own recent discomfort as he saw the young Hobbit reluctantly draw forth a small, golden ring and advance to place it upon a plinth in the center of the assembly. So this tiny object was what Gandalf had been hiding in the Shire all those years, the Elf thought to himself. He was gazing at it, incredulous, when he realized that the like emotion was shared by many. The Man of Gondor spoke, his voice filled with wonder.

"So it is true," he murmured. Slowly he arose, and slowly he began to move toward the Ring, as if drawn to it.

"In a dream," he said softly, almost as if speaking to himself, "I saw the eastern sky grow dark. But in the west a pale light lingered, and a voice was crying, 'Doom is near at hand, Isildur's bane is found'. Isildur's bane," he repeated. Elrond and Gandalf watched uneasily as the Man gazed ever more fixedly upon the fiery object, his awe and amazement replaced by eagerness and greed. The Man reached out his hand as if he would take the Ring.

"Boromir!" cried Elrond. Boromir started, as if awoken from a trance. Gandalf was on his feet now as well, and he began to speak in a strange, uncouth tongue. As he did, it was as if all warmth and light had departed from the earth.

"Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul," chanted Gandalf in a voice not his own. "Ash nazg thrakatulûk, agh burzum-ishi krimpatul!"

Pain and nausea swept over Legolas, and he flinched.

Bewildered and dazed, Boromir backed up toward his seat, almost falling into it as his legs struck its edge. The voice ceased, and warmth and sunlight began to filter back into the world. Legolas felt his nausea recede, but his head still throbbed. Elrond, who himself had recoiled from the hideousness of the words, found his voice, although it sounded thick as he began to speak, as if he had to force the sounds out.

"Never before," he said grimly, "has any voice uttered the words of that tongue here, in Imladris.

Gandalf, too, spoke with an effort. "I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond," he rasped, as if he had no breath left in his body. "For the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the West. The Ring is altogether evil."

Boromir had begun to recover from his confusion. He shook his head at Gandalf's words and again eyed the Ring greedily.

"But it is a gift," he exclaimed. "A gift to the foes of Mordor! Why not use this ring?"

Boromir once again rose to his feet and began to pace, keeping his eyes upon the Ring all the while as he spoke urgently.
"Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe. Give Gondor the weapon of the Enemy. Let us use it against him!"

As he listened to Boromir's eager words, Legolas glanced quickly at Gandalf. He could see that the Man's speech was not to the wizard's liking, and he caught the look that Gandalf exchanged with Elrond. Aragorn, too, was troubled. Thus far he had said nothing. Now he addressed himself to Boromir.

"You cannot wield it!" he warned the Man of Gondor. "None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master."

Boromir turned and looked disdainfully upon the Ranger. The Dúnadan's garb was good, but simpler than the garments worn by the Man of the South. Boromir dismissed his words as being of no importance. "And what would a Ranger know of this matter?" he asked derisively.

Aragorn never spoke of his heritage—indeed, for the sake of safety he had been trained not to—and Legolas saw that he would not do so now. Angered on behalf of his friend, he leaped to his feet. "This is no mere Ranger," he said, perhaps more sharply than he intended. "He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance."

Boromir looked again upon Aragorn, his derision replaced by disbelief.

"Aragorn?" he said, his doubt plain to be seen. "This is Isildur's heir?"

"And heir to the throne of Gondor," Legolas shot back, his voice challenging.

"Havo dad, Legolas," Aragorn said quietly. "Sit down, Legolas."

Legolas complied with the wishes of his friend. Boromir, too, resumed his seat, but not before saying, "Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king." The latter words he all but spat.

Gandalf ignored the exchange between the two Men. "Aragorn is right," he said. "We cannot use it." With that, Elrond rose to his feet. The moment of crisis was at hand. "You have only one choice," he intoned. "The Ring must be destroyed."

For a moment, all sat in silence. Then Legolas noticed some movement amongst the Dwarves. The angry younger Dwarf had sprung to his feet and brandished his axe. "Then what are we waiting for?" he growled. 'No doubt', Legolas thought derisively, 'Dwarves pattern their behavior upon the needs of the forge, where one must strike while the iron is hot'. The Dwarf strode toward the plinth, raised his axe high above his head, and brought it down upon the Ring with a power that was impressive even to Legolas. The sound of splintering metal rang out, but it was the Dwarf's axe that had shattered. The Ring sat serene upon the plinth, its surface unmarred. It seemed to Legolas that undamaged Ring glowed as if it were afire, and that from its center came a hollow laugh that echoed in the air even after all had fallen still.

Elrond spoke.

"The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli son of Glóin, by any craft that we here possess. The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came. One of you must do this."

All fell silent in their contemplation of the Ring—all save Boromir, who shook his head in disgust and disbelief. When he spoke, his impatience and anger were barely contained.

"One does not simply walk into Mordor," he protested. "Its black gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep, and the Great Eye is ever-watchful. It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire and ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly!"

Legolas leaped to his feet. He had decided that this Man of the South, who insulted Aragorn and challenged the wisdom of Elrond, was only a little preferable to a Dwarf.

"Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said?" he asked heatedly. "The Ring must be destroyed!"

The angry young Dwarf—Gimli, Elrond had said his name was—was now on his feet as well.

"And I suppose you think you're the one to do it," he challenged Legolas.

Boromir spoke over the head of the Dwarf.

"And if we fail," he shouted, "what then?"

"I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf!" roared the Dwarf.

"What happens when Sauron takes back what his?" bellowed Boromir.

All—Man, Elf, and Dwarf—were on their feet by now. Legolas had to master not only his own temper but those of his compatriots, and he flung out his arm to hold back the Elves who would have advanced on the shouting throng of Men and Dwarves. Gimli's voice arose above all others.

"No one trusts an Elf!" he was swearing.

It seemed to Legolas that the Council must end in confusion and wrath, but a voice there was that was more piercing than the Dwarf's. It was not louder, no, but in its urgency it rivaled the power of the words uttered in anger.

"I will take the Ring."

Only a few heard it the first time, but those few fell silent in astonishment.

"I will take the Ring" came the voice once more. Man, Elf, and Dwarf, all turned toward the small voice.

"I will take the Ring," repeated the voice. The soft words were spoken by a person no bigger than the voice.

"I will take the Ring," said Frodo, Bilbo's nephew. "Though," he added humbly, "I do not know the way."

Legolas looked toward Gandalf, and this time he had no doubt as to the wizard's emotion—emotions, rather, for on his face were mingled relief and sorrow. Relief, for both he and Elrond had believed that this task had been ordained for the small one; sorrow, because Gandalf well knew what was being asked of the Hobbit and what the consequences might be. The wizard stepped forward and addressed the Perian.

"I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear."

Aragorn came forward no less swiftly.

"If, by my life or death, I can protect you, I will." He knelt. "You have my sword."

Legolas stepped forth to stand by his friend.

"And you have my bow!" he declared.

The Dwarf was not to be outdone. He stumped forward.

"And my axe!" he growled. He looked defiance at Legolas. The Elf looked away, pretending not to notice.

Now Boromir came forward. His manner was grim but determined.

"You carry the fate of us all, little one," he said gravely. "If this is indeed the will of the council, then Gondor will see it done."

The Council was very nearly at an end, and the outcome was as Gandalf had hoped. Agreement that the Ring must be destroyed, and an alliance in little of Free Peoples, an alliance that Gandalf hoped would be mirrored in the world at large. As for Legolas, in spite of the gravity of the task before them, the Elf's spirits rose apace, for it seemed to him that he now had a way to make at least partial amends for Gollum's escape from Mirkwood. The Elf watched with amusement as Elrond struggled with his eyebrows after one of the Hobbits, Samwise Gamgee, suddenly materialized from the shrubbery and demanded that he be allowed to accompany his master. "You shall go with him," Elrond promised, a slight smile upon his face. "It is hardly possible to separate you from him, even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not!" So light-hearted was Legolas that he would have laughed had the occasion permitted it.

The Elf was not so light-hearted, however, that he had given over his intention of having a private conversation with Gandalf. He wanted to be certain that Gandalf bore no ill will toward the Mirkwood realm. To his delight, after dinner Gandalf stated his intention of going to his chamber straightaway. "No frolicking in the Hall of Fire for me," he declared, declining Bilbo's offer to regale him with a poem he had lately translated from Quenya. Legolas hastened on ahead, and when Gandalf reached the door to his chamber, there stood the young Elf.

"To what do I owe the honor of this visit," Gandalf said solemnly, but the glitter in his eyes bespoke amusement. Legolas nevertheless spoke with great formality.

"Mithrandir, we have not had an opportunity to talk further about the escape of the creature whom you entrusted to the safekeeping of my kinsmen."

"Oh, are you still worrying about that?" Gandalf chortled. He put his hand upon the shoulder of the young Elf.

"Legolas, neither you nor any of your kin could be blamed for Gollum's escape."

"You are not angry?"

Gandalf smiled and looked very much like the selfsame wizard who long ago had befriended a little elfling prince. Legolas saw now that, while it was true that his face had become more lined over the centuries, the kindness in his eyes was unchanged.

"Tut! tut! Legolas! To think that I would waste my anger upon my friends! You know very well that I am not so profligate with my wrath."

"You have not always hoarded it so carefully," teased Legolas. "Do you remember the time you swatted me—aye, and Elrohir and Elladan, too—because Elrohir had meddled with your magic?"

Gandalf was unperturbed.

"That was an example of my forbearance rather than of my wrath,' he replied with equanimity. "Given the provocation, I would have been justified in turning the lot of you into blocks of wood, a fate that would have been in keeping with the intelligence you displayed. Instead, I merely gave each of you one sharp blow upon the palm. You would not have met such restraint at the hands of Saruman!"

Legolas shivered. He remembered the times he had come close to falling into the clutches of the Lord of Isengard. He knew that his fate would have been very different if it had been Saruman rather than Gandalf who had found him in the woods near Rivendell. 'By now', Legolas thought to himself, 'I would be more Orc than Elf if Saruman had gotten his claws into me'. Again he shivered. Gandalf looked upon him with understanding.

"Ah," the wizard said shrewdly, "you are remembering the times that Saruman has sought to welcome you into his circle."

"Either that or slay me," retorted Legolas. For when Saruman was thwarted, his thoughts had turned to murder. One time the turncoat wizard had very nearly succeeded, when his machinations had resulted in a young Legolas being thrown into the icy waters of the Isen.

Conversation between Istar and Elf was interrupted when Aragorn knocked upon the door. Gandalf waved him to a seat and offered him a goblet of wine. Aragorn politely declined.

"My head is all in a whirl, Gandalf. Should I quaff that beverage, I am sure I should be utterly incapable of sensible thought."

"In a whirl, eh? I should have expected a more sober response on your part. You do know that you are leading a company south, toward the realm of the Dark Lord?"

Aragorn gave Gandalf an odd look.

"I am leading the Company? Gandalf, I thought—"

"Yes, yes," Gandalf said hastily. "Of course. I am the oldest and wisest of the Company. I will be its titular head, to be sure. But, Estel, you must know what is at stake. The destruction of the device of the Enemy is but the prelude to the restoration of the estate of Man. And you, Estel—"

"Aragorn," interrupted the individual in question.

"Aragorn, yes, but I want you to remember that you are Estel just the same," Gandalf said patiently. And it anything should happen to me—"

"Nothing will happen to you," Legolas interjected quickly. "Nothing could happen to you."

Gandalf paused and looked sideways at Legolas.

"Nothing, eh? I wish nothing would happen to me." He returned his attention to Aragorn.

"Whatever my fate may be, it is you, Aragorn, whoare heir to the throne of Gondor. It is not my task to lead Men—no, and it never was. So you had better get used to the fact that you are no 'mere Ranger', as some would prefer to believe. Moreover," continued the wizard, adopting a more light-hearted tone, "you ought not to forget that more than the crown of Gondor is at stake. Permit me to whisper the name 'Arwen' into your ear."

Aragorn's hand at once went to his throat, and Legolas knew that the Man clutched at the pendant that lay hidden beneath his tunic, a jewel gifted to him by the daughter of Elrond. After a moment he dropped his hand and absent-mindedly laid hold of the hilt of his sword. "I will think upon what you have said," he murmured with a distracted air. He arose, inclined his head slightly, and strode from the room. Gandalf smiled fondly at his retreating figure.

"He has been preparing for this moment all his life, Legolas. He is excited and eager, but fearful, too. At the Council, much was made of the burden that Frodo must carry, but Aragorn, too, bears a heavy burden. I can rely upon you to help him carry it, can't I, my lad?"

"I am surprised you find it necessary to ask, Mithrandir. You know I would do my utmost to aid either of you."

"Good," said Gandalf briskly. "You will start by being agreeable to the Dwarf—well, more agreeable, anyway," the wizard added hastily at the sight of Legolas' face. "Need you be so obvious about your dislike for him and your distrust of Dwarves in general?"

"I will try to be more subtle, Mithrandir," Legolas muttered. 'But the Dwarf makes it difficult', he added to himself.

"I would also be glad," the wizard continued, "if you would call me Gandalf. The Hobbits and the Dwarf have always known me by that name, and Aragorn now prefers to address me by it as well. As much as possible, we ought to all speak alike. Doing so may help bind us into a Fellowship—and it is necessary that we be a Fellowship, regardless of any differences that may have divided us in the past."

Gandalf gave Legolas a sharp look, and the young Elf felt the tips of his ears grow warm. Not for the first time, he wondered whether the wizard shared distant kinship with Galadriel. Both had the unnerving habit of divining his thoughts, no matter how carefully he cloaked them.

"If you wish to be called Gandalf, then that is how I shall address you," the young Elf said a little stiffly, "although I don't see why. Mithrandir is a perfectly good name."

"Aye, and so is Gandalf," retorted the same. "Better, really, for it only wastes two syllables instead of the three. For we shall want to save our breath to cool our porridge, my lad—at least as long as we have the luck to enjoy a bowl. I expect before the end we shall have to break fast on many a less delightful dish. Speaking of dishes, I am hungry again. See if the Cook would give us something to eat, that's a good lad."

"You have become very nearly a Halfling," Legolas teased him, "always thinking of your next meal."

"And in the days to come," Gandalf retorted, "it may behoove you to get into the habit of doing likewise. Meals may become an irregular occurrence before you have seen the end of this little adventure."

Later that evening, after sharing a second dinner with Gandalf, Legolas strolled back to the chamber he shared with Tathar. He burst into the room reciting poetry, and he leaned out the window serenading every maiden who passed by. For weeks Tathar had fretted over the gloominess of the Prince; now he feared that he had given way to excessive levity. Tathar had already heard the news that Legolas would be a part of the Fellowship. "Your father," he warned, "is going to be very angry."

"I know," Legolas replied cheerfully. "But," he added with a grin, "I won't let that affect me!"